


Butt it Hurts

by BoStarsky



Series: Assorted Kylux [34]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Kinda, Kylo is a slut, M/M, Medical Kink, Mild Degradation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Overstimulation, PWP, they fuck in a hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-24 20:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20913776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoStarsky/pseuds/BoStarsky
Summary: Still sore after a drunken one night stand Kylo takes his dramatic self to the hospital, but why is his doctor so familiar?





	Butt it Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> This has not been betaed so I apologise in advance, I literally just finished writing it. The title was given to me by GayMichaelis, the queen of puns. 
> 
> Enjoy!

When he’d been drunk and horny Ben had though his big dicked catch had been, well, a catch. The guy, a twink in every sense of the word had been in possession of the biggest dick Ben had ever seen in real life. He realises now, two days later, that he might have been a bit too eager to get that monster inside of him for his ass still hurts and every time he farts it sounds like someone letting the air out of an old tire. It’s the fear of his ass failing him that has him catching an Uber to the hospital. He’s fearless enough to fill in the chart with the exact reason for his visit, but he’s nowhere near dumb enough to ask anyone he knows for a lift. He’d like to maintain some smidgeon of dignity, thank you very much. 

He opts not to sit down while he waits, leaning against the wall as that’s a less painful option. From here he can watch the other poor fools sitting there with their own aches and pains. 

It must be a slow day since he’s directed into an examination room in just a little over an hour and told a doctor will see him shortly. He’s almost done then, provided there’s no tearing the doctor can just shove something numbing up there and send him on his merry way to heal up and do this all over again. Make this whole thing as easy as possible

That thought goes right out the window when the door opens and in walks a man who is all too familiar, because even if he was a little drunk there’s no way Ben could ever forget that hair colour. Is it ironic or just plain unlucky that the doctor sent to treat him is the very same man who caused it in the first place? Ben can’t decide. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Solo. I’m Dr. Hux-“  _ Holy shit he’s wearing glasses! _ “I see you’ve listed  _ ‘anal suffering’  _ as the cause for your visit?” He finally looks up from the chart and Ben is too captivated by the crisp accent he hadn’t noticed before to realise Hux is just staring at him. 

“Uh, fuck, shit,” is all that comes to mind, by the look on his face Hux seems to have recognised him too. 

“I warned you you weren’t ready and not using nearly enough lubrication,” Hux says at long last, looking like a smug bastard, which he is. “Would you like another doctor?” He asks, eyes raking over Ben’s body, in memory perhaps?

Ben shakes his head, he can behave, and besides, Hux already has intimate knowledge of his asshole, who better to fix it?

“Alright then, drop your trousers and bend over the table, let’s have a look.” Scrambling to obey Ben almost falls flat on his face, pushing his sweats down to the floor and leaning onto the exam table. Why are hospitals always so cold? Behind him he hears the snap of a latex glove, a spike of arousal shoots up his spine.  _ Oh no. _

“The lube might be a tad cold,” is all the warning he gets before Hux’s finger goes up his butt, Ben yelps, the lube really is cold.  _ Where the fuck was he keeping it, the fridge? _

The entire time Hux is rooting around up his ass Ben is putting his mind, body, and soul into suppressing his chubbing erection. He fails, his cock growing harder by the second. Hux doesn’t seem to mind, continuing his exploration and brushing over Ben’s prostate often enough for it to be suspicious. 

When Hux finally pulls his finger out Ben whimpers, flushing immediately and stuttering out an embarrassed apology. 

“There’s no blood or tearing, you’re just sore.” Once more Hux’s words are heavy with  _ ‘I told you so’  _ it only serves to make him more embarrassed. Having figured Hux to be done with his examination Ben moves to stand up only for a warm hand to push on his lower back, “We’re not done yet.” 

Ben listens closely as Hux moves around behind him, anxiety gnawing a bit in his stomach over what could happen next. He tenses when the doctor returns putting one gloved hand on his ass to pull his cheeks apart only for the anticlimactic action of the lube being wiped off. Ben isn’t sure if he should be disappointed or relieved. 

He doesn’t have time to decide before a burning hot tongue is pressed against his hole. “What the fuck?” He yelps, now trying to decide if he should be mad at how unprofessional this is, or if he should spread his legs. Then he starts thinking about how good it had felt when Hux fucked him with that big cock; maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to be sore for a little while longer. 

He spreads his legs.

“That’s what I thought, slut,” Hux hums, going back to lapping at Ben’s hole, scruffy jaw rubbing against the sensitive skin. 

Ben moans, that slur in Hux’s soft voice heating him up from the inside with both shame and arousal. 

A hand bears down on his right cheek with a resounding slap, “Be quiet,” Hux hisses. The brief pause in Hux’s work is enough to prompt Ben to biting down on his own knuckles to help muffle his noises. He just can’t help it, the combination of his sore hole and Hux’s warm tongue producing an amazing tingle that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. 

Everything about this situation is so morally wrong, someone else could probably use this exam room right now, but Ben can’t find it in himself to protest. If anything he’s becoming motivated to visit the doctor more often if this is how he’ll be treated. The tissue paper covering the bench crinkles in his fist as that talented tongue pushes past the rim and he struggles not to cry out. 

Then just as quickly as he started, Hux pulls back. Whining about it only earns him another slap across the ass. Glancing back over his shoulder he’s met with Hux’s bright eyes heavy with arousal, at least he’s not the only one enjoying this which makes his leaking cock a little less embarrassing. 

“I think we’re going to have to take a sperm sample, Mr. Solo, just to make sure everything is in working order.”  _ Yes,  _ Ben silently cheers, pushing aside his apprehension in favour of getting off in this scenario that could have come straight out of the “most popular” selection on Pornhub. Shit like this doesn’t ever happen to him. 

But when Hux goes for his fly Ben thinks he might regret this. Fingers are one thing, but taking that huge cock again so soon is in a whole different dimension. Then he sees it, half hard and heavy, hanging over the elastic of Hux’s underpants where he’s pulled them down. Subconsciously he spreads his legs a little wider. 

“Such a good little whore,” Hux hums, picking up a tube of lube from the counter and slicking his gloved fingers. 

Ben’s entire body jerks when he goes right to three, pushing them inside him none too gently. The stretch burns and the lube is cold, but his erection doesn’t flag one bit, twitching impatiently. The doctor is quick and thorough, seeming to know exactly what to do to make him relax and welcome the intrusion. 

A fourth finger joins the rest and Ben whimpers, pushing back against Hux’s hand and earning himself another slap on his right cheek. Heat pools where he was struck, the skin flushed with blood and prickling in the aftermath. 

The fingers pull back, leaving him feeling empty and stretched out. Hux wastes no time smearing the remaining lube over his now hard cock that lists to the side under its own weight. He watches over his shoulder as Hux lines up, blunt head pushing against his rim, he enters in one smooth thrust. A low moan rumbles out from the depths of Ben’s chest. 

“See how much better it is with proper preparation?” In any other situation that smug tone would have made him angry, but he can’t muster the emotion with Hux so deep inside of him. All he can do is nod. 

Hux thrusts once, twice, he hums thoughtfully; a hand grabs Ben’s thigh, pushing until his knee is on top of the table, spreading him open further so Hux can slip just a little deeper. Apparently pleased with the new position the doctor wastes no time in getting to work, fucking into him at a near brutal pace. It feels just as good and better than it had the last time, that huge cock stroking him in all the right places as his own dribbles pathetically on the floor. Ben himself can’t suck in enough air at a time to make any kind of significant noise, panting and gasping as the table creaks under the force. 

To a symphony of slapping skin and the squelch of lube Ben comes untouched, hips jerking erratically with the force of it as his vision whites out at the edges. Hux keeps going, fucking him through it and chasing his own orgasm. By the time he stills, pressing as deep as he can Ben is past the point of overstimulation, though he still feels a spike of arousal as Hux throbs inside him, filling him up with a quiet, satisfied groan. 

How he’s going to walk out of here without looking worse Ben hasn’t quite figured out yet. At least he won’t be the only one not looking put together. But right now he’s more concerned with not turning into a puddle of pleased goo, it’s a tough battle. 

Behind him he hears a rustle of clothes, a zipper being pulled up, latex gloves being replaced. The wet wipe Hux uses to clean him up is cold, Ben wonders yet again what’s with the hospital agenda of giving everyone the literal chills. 

“Just don’t put anything else up there for a few days,” is all the advice Hux gives him, voice strangely soft in contrast to his efficient movements. Done with the clean up he gives Ben’s ass a little pat, signalling him to get a move on. 

Pulling his sweats back up is a process, the ache of having been thoroughly fucked settling in in the wake of his orgasm. Soon enough he’s ready to leave, to walk out of this hospital with his head held high and the doctor’s cum in his ass, but before he can open the door Hux stops him. 

“Call me if it doesn’t get better.” The card Hux holds out to him is simple and elegant in its design, just his name and title in neat print. On the back is a phone number in the same font, under it one in blue pen. Ben can guess which one Hux wants him to call. 

“Thank you, Doctor.” With that he takes his remaining dignity by the scruff, picks up his bill and heads home. 


End file.
